Deluded
by Twilighter
Summary: Edward and Bella have more in common than they thought.


A/N: Another oneshot. This one plays upon the idea of Edward being just as delusional as Bella when he was away from her in New Moon…in an attic in Brazil, I believe. And then I merged that with Bella's own dreaming, and this is what I got. The setting was taken from one of Stephenie Meyer's outtakes. Read and review, tell me what you think, yada, yada...

-Lisa

* * *

**Deluded**

**By: Twilighter**

She was a lovely delusion, despite the fact that her presence denoted imminent insanity.

The girl sat close, though not close enough to brush against my side. Her face was sad, the expression doing nothing to mar her beauty. Not that anything could. She would always be the most beautiful thing in my life.

My head rose up as I slowly, disbelievingly turned to look at her; my forehead had been pressed against my knees as I'd curled up in this small space. The thoughts of my meaningless life that had been echoing around my skull emptied, evaporating from my mind as I watched this perfect apparition of my memory. I didn't care that she wasn't real – my eyes took in every detail of her silhouetted face, starved of it for far too long.

It was proof that I was utterly bewitched by her: I was unable to help but see her, despite the great distance between us. She was magic, threaded into every fiber of my being, everlasting, never letting go. Never even growing loose. Time would not heal _this _wound. Her hold on me was permanent and unbreakable.

I watched intently as she sat, legs folded, carefully tracing patterns in the thick layer of dust that covered a ceiling beam. It was inches from our eyes, and she drew steady swirls in the grime, nose scrunching as the dust tickled her face. She wiped her hand on her jeans.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, curious. Her eyes combed the darkness of the attic, but she could only see the first several feet in front of her. She could not see this little hole of a place in its entirety; that was good, for I was sure she'd be disgusted.

I smiled, for the first time in a very long while. Her voice was so soothing, without even meaning to be. But I had no answer for her. "I'm not sure."

She absently wiped her hand on her pants again, her forehead puckering as she tried to remove the gray marks from her pale fingers. "Maybe we're hiding. No one could ever find us here."

I wanted to hold that hand, keep her still against me. But I shouldn't. I didn't deserve to touch her, monster that I was. After what I'd done to her, she might not want me to, either. And then, there was the fact that if I touched her, she might vanish.

I kept my hands to myself.

I thought about what she said. Maybe I _was_ hiding…from her, and from my family. But I could never be fully concealed. "Except Alice," I reminded her gently.

Her lips, so perfect, pulled up into a half-smile. "Alice," she whispered to herself. Her expression saddened again. "Yes, I imagine that Alice could see this."

I blinked. The little seer would see me, talking to _myself_.

The girl paused, her eyes finally finding mine. "I miss her." I'm sure Alice missed her too - she'd been so sure that things were going to work out. And now, to be proven wrong, especially when Bella was her best friend...

I watched, pained, as she bit her lower lip to keep it from wavering. "I'm sorry." The words were horribly inadequate, but they were all I had.

"For what?" she wondered.

I frowned. "For not letting Alice say goodbye." Among other things.

She looked so disappointed at my answer. She took a shaky breath and looked down at her hands, now folded in her lap. Her dark hair tumbled down to obscure her face.

"What?" Even my delusions were unhappy with me. I didn't understand why I always did things wrong. "Bella, what? What is it?"

She looked up again, her cheeks flushed to an angry rose color, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "I just…" Even her voice shook. I wanted to cling to her, tell her everything was okay, have her tell me the same. "I don't know. I should probably go now." Her voice broke at the end, sounding vacant.

"No!" I said hurriedly, startling her. "Please, don't. Don't leave me," I begged, gentler this time. I didn't think I could suffer from whatever withdrawal accompanied seeing her. "Please."

She looked conflicted. "But the longer I stay, the worse it will be…" she said this mostly to herself.

"Stay," I whispered.

She deliberated. "Alright," she murmured back, so low that I could barely hear her over the other sounds. The clamor of the tenants of this hovel was loud, as was the cacophony of thoughts that came from every which way. But of course, from her mind, there was only peaceful, comforting silence. She was the only person I could feel truly normal with.

I missed her so much.

"Why are we here?" she asked again.

"I was hunting."

She looked bemused. "But your eyes are black." She reached out a hand to touch my face. I flinched away. I couldn't bear to see her disappear. She pulled her hand back, looking wounded. Her gaze alighted on the rotting wooden floorboards.

I watched her as a breathless sigh escaped her frail body. She looked so small, so delicate. Like she would break any minute. I mutely noted the blue-black shadows under her eyes that rivaled my own. And her cheekbones - so much sharper above her now-hollowed cheeks. And the way her thin sweater clung loosely to her slight frame, much slimmer than I could ever remember seeing her. She'd lost weight that she couldn't really afford to lose.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to see her healthy. This was _my_ delusion, after all – surely I could change it. My subconscious was merely trying to guilt me into returning. There was no way she looked like that – there was no way she agonized over me that way.

I opened my eyes again, defeated when she remained the same. I shook my head at the frown on her face, the expression seemingly unconscious on her part. It seemed that my subconscious was determined to make me suffer.

"Not that kind of hunting. I was tracking. Do you remember Victoria?"

She shuddered, her skinny shoulders curving in. I felt bad for frightening her.

"Don't worry. She won't hurt you. She's just playing hide-and-go-seek with me." The longing to touch her was a palpable thing. My hands curled into fists as I locked my arms around my knees. I needed her – to comfort and to be comforted. "You're safe, far from her. From me," I assured her.

She shook her head, then asked "Who won the game?"

"No one, yet. She's eluded me – like she has a gift for it. Or maybe I'm just terrible at tracking." I looked up at her. "I'm sorry. I've failed you again."

Her head shook again, minutely, and her eyes flickered back to my face. I wondered what she saw there. "I can't tell…" she mumbled to herself.

"What?"

"I don't know if this is a dream, or a nightmare. Or just shades of gray – it has elements of both." Again, she talked mostly to herself, like she was as unsure if she was here with me as I was unsure I was with her. Her arms wrapped themselves around her torso like a vice as she took deep, steadying breaths.

"A nightmare, I should think." I probably looked much like a nightmare right now. I hadn't taken the time to change clothes in weeks, and I was covered from head to toe in dirt from the road. And I hadn't gone hunting in so long – I only went when the burning got so terrible that I feared for the passerby.

She shook her head. "Never a nightmare. Not if you're here." She broke off, eyes distant. "And not leaving," she corrected softly. Again, the guilt pulled at me. I wanted to run to her, to that dark window of hers that was always in my mind.

"I'm so sorry. I couldn't stay…" There was so much I wanted to say to her that I couldn't, because she wasn't really there. I wanted to explain to her why I'd left, rather than leave her with that ugly memory of me, lying through my teeth, telling her the blackest kind of blasphemy that there ever was – that _I didn't love her_.

The words sounded so wrong in my mind.

"It's okay," she whispered, trying to console me. _Me_. "You never could have stayed, I know that now. You were always much too good for me. It makes no sense to grieve when you lose something so far beyond any expectations you ever had." The ghost of my heart beat rapidly. "You just have to appreciate it while it lasts…But I can't help it. I'm selfish – I need you." As if she could ever be flawed.

I tried to not let her pleas affect me. The real Bella had probably moved on by now…she probably never even thought of me. I felt the anguish rear its ugly head in my chest, tearing me apart from the inside out.

I was falling to pieces without her.

"I need you, too." My breath was shallow in the wake of my admission. I _needed _her. How long could I last without her? I should return. Why protract the inevitable, at the expense of both parties?

Then I forced myself to remember that she was an illusion. The real Bella was fine. She was better than that – she was shining, she was living a life outside of my shadow. She was perfect, the way she always would be.

"A dream, then. A good dream – too good to be true," the fantasy whispered longingly. "You're so perfect…I wonder if I will remember you."

My breath caught. "Please, please do. I know I shouldn't want this, but I hope you never forget me."

Bella looked into my eyes, ensnaring them with her own, impossibly deep brown irises. She'd once accused me of dazzling her – and yet a simple heartbeat of hers could do the same to me. She was a miracle, an angel…I'd waited so long for her. She'd changed me, and now I would never be the same. I was wholly rearranged – now incomplete, without her.

And that made the damage so much worse.

"It will hurt," she promised, "if I remember. I should go…staying will only make it harder." Would make what harder?

I wanted to ask her to stay again, but I didn't want to cause her pain – imaginary, or otherwise.

"I wish I could go with you." I would follow her anywhere, if the situation was different, if my presence wasn't some malign burden on her life.

"I do, too." She trembled. "But you don't love me anymore."

I was aching. I cried out, trying to grab her, to insist that it _wasn't true_.

But she disappeared.


End file.
